Now Abide These Three
by joannahobbit
Summary: Formerly "Hope's Warmth"/"Hope and Love" but I felt there was more to the story so I've added other chapters and renamed it.
1. Hope

**I considered submitting the words "hope" and "blanket" to "Associations" by chrysalis escapist but this came to me instead. (= (on a side note: c e - if you want to use the words, by all means.)**

**Don't own: if I did Mac would be mine. So since I can't have him. I'll give him to Stella.**

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So cold.

I sit in his office wrapped in his blanket. My blanket. Our blanket. By dint of ownership the blanket belongs to Mac. But he calls it my blanket because I gave it to him. We both use it (him more than I) so I guess it could be called our blanket. I bought Mac this blanket last year for Christmas. He sleeps in his office so often I had figured he could use something like this. It's nothing special, at least not to look at. It's very "manly"; a soft fleece thing, more of a throw, dark, royal blue, with a white overlock stitch on the edges. No design or pictures and certainly no fringe. When folded up and tossed over the arm of the couch it does not stand out. It blends in quite nicely with the rest of the office. There is another exactly like it in my apartment. Only to be used when absolutely necessary. It has been used exactly twice. Mac does not know of it's existence.

The one in the office gets used often. More often than I think it ought to be. But at least I know he has something to keep him warm when he insists on staying late to finish a case, only to end up sleeping on his couch. I always know when it's been used. He tries to hide its use: but I take notice of this blanket every morning. I notice if the fold is slightly different, or the location is different than that of the day before. The casual observer might not notice anything, but I'm paid to notice small things. And when the small things are connected to someone I care greatly for, the differences are all the more noticeable.

I only use the blanket on occasions such as this; when something's wrong. This time he's on the top of the Empire State building. Not the top floor. The top; where the antennas are. Though I'm not there, though I know he will take all safety precautions, I'm still petrified. You see, I'm scared of heights. No one knows this, not even Mac. Usually I'm able to deal with it; deep breaths and look down as little as possible.

I know I'm supposed to be working, but I can't. Not until I know he's safe. I shiver again and look at my phone. I don't want to call him just to make sure he's ok. That's foolish, and would tip him off about my fear. I just have to wait and hope he will call me. And hope I won't get a very different type of call. If I get that call the blanket at my place will get used again, possibly get put to long-term use. The first time I used that blanket was right after the mess with Drew. The case was closed and I was so relieved he was safe. I went home, wrapped myself in "his" blanket and cried myself to sleep. The second time was more of a long-term use; when he had been taken hostage after the bank robbery. The few hours I was home during that time I spent wrapped in Mac's blanket (for that is what I call it). And again, once he was back and the case closed, I came home, wrapped myself in it and wept.

These blankets are my way of being close to him when it is otherwise impossible. They are my way of drawing comfort and hope from situations that would render me crippled with fear. Knowing he uses this one causes in me an unnameable feeling. I almost feel as if I have given him some form of protection, some way to keep him safe. So my using this gives me hope that he is still safe.

Still no call. The stress of the situation causes exhaustion in me. Unwillingly I sleep. And am awoken by the sound of my name and a gentle hand on my cheek. And am reminded of a verse I was made to learn at the convent; "Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life."

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** Reviews are always enjoyed. I'm sorry I'm so bad at replying to reviews but please know that I read and love all of them! Hope you are all enjoying your holidays!**


	2. Love

**Even when writing Stella's thoughts I knew I was going to end up writing Mac's perspective. I have a hard time writing Mac so I don't feel as if this one is as good as the other. You know I love reviews! Those of you waiting for more "Again and Always" it's coming...eventually...PROMISE!**

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That blanket.

I walk to my office and notice its use before I even get to the door. Stella, sitting sideways on my couch, wrapped in the blanket she gave me, sleeping. There is worry on her face. Even were she not in my office, on my couch, using that blanket I'd know the reason: me. More accurately: me on the top of that building. I've never had anyone worry about me the way Stella does. Even Claire, though she was quite capable of taking care of herself, preferred to let me take the role of protector. She was so proud of my military background. Stella though, seems to think I need protection and when she cannot protect me I know she comes here; to my office, to the blanket. I now have solid evidence of this. But I knew before now. There has been a lingering scent after certain stressful events. She smells of pomegranate. It is not overwhelming but every time I smell it, it causes me to stop what ever I'm doing and just breathe. I have to work at not getting too distracted when I'm near her. The scent has not been on the blanket too often. The most recent time was when I returned from that case where the man on the plane was killed. I had stayed late to get some work done and when I went to use the couch and blanket the scent came over me, relaxing me. I slept well that night, feeling as if she were near.

Deciding to let her sleep, I enter my office, intending to get some work done and allow her to wake on her own. I sit at my desk and look at her for a moment. She is wrapped very tightly in that thing.

I know she checks the blanket every morning. Shortly after she gave it to me, I noticed her eyes straying to it daily and finally realized she was checking to see if I had slept. So when I use it, I now intentionally leave her small clues to alleviate her mind. I will also admit that it is also a tiny bit out of self-defense. When she knows I that I haven't slept I'm lucky to get only a "look". We've never discussed my use of that blanket but she knows me well.

And I know her. She is unaware that I know of her fear of heights. She hides it well. I'm not sure if anyone else knows; she's never even told me. But I know: I've seen her in high places, she controls her breath and looks down only when necessary. It's the heights that drove her here I'm sure. I can't imagine how she reacted once she found out where I was. No, that's not true. Knowing her, she maintained her composure until she finished what she was doing then came here and just sat, wrapped in the blanket until exhaustion and worry overtook her.

I realize that I have been staring at her for some time now. I guess if I am to wake her I ought to soon. Otherwise I might not get anything done. Knowing she startles out of her sleep easily I approach quietly, kneel before her and softly touch her face as I call her name.

The scent of pomegranates envelopes me.


	3. Faith

**So I thought this needed one more chapter. And I'm renaming it again. The inspiration and title come from I Corinthians 13, the chapter in the Bible about love. Can you tell who is watching?**

**XXX**

I remain on the other side of thought, watching. I see things invisible; there is someone else with her, just as I am with him. Her watcher though, is malevolent, and always present in her thoughts. Without knowing it, she is always aware of him, aware of the blood staining the white shirt he wears, aware of the blood pouring from his arm in a never ceasing stream. However, he can do nothing to her. Just as I can do nothing to the one I watch. I am glad for he would do harm; I would comfort.

The two in the room are still, as if frozen. She sits wrapped in a blanket, newly awoken from sleep. His intent was to wake her, nothing more. But it is now obvious that he cannot draw his hand back. Their eyes are connected, unable to look away. I smile as her watcher curses and does his best to make himself known when in fact the opposite is happening; he will soon be gone. Eventually he will be gone for good. And I will remain.

The man who touches her face is responsible for the watcher's presence weakening. He is telling her with his eyes that he would never hurt her. Asking her if she believes him, if she can trust him, if she will place her faith in him. The sudden disappearance of who they cannot see gives me her answer. Her features soften and in her eyes is something that has been missing for a very long time.

His other hand comes to the other side of her face as hers go to the back of his head, giving him an answer that he does not mistake.

There is no hesitation in the kiss: she is giving unreservedly what he asked for. He had it before the asking but now it is fully his. Without breaking the kiss he gets off his knees and sits on the couch, drawing her into his love and embrace. She wraps him in the blanket, enveloping him with hope. This has been a long time in coming. Neither one had expected it to ever happen. But I knew it would. Shortly after I began my vigil I saw it coming. She had come to comfort him and to give him strength when all he loved had been taken from him. I was instantly glad. I knew she would always be there for him, that she would help him heal. And it seems he has done the same for her.

**XXX**

**Hope you liked! Lots of written reviews would be LOVELY! I've got another in the works but am having some difficulty with it so you might not see anything new from me anytime soon. **


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